Revenge
by Speedy-anime-angel
Summary: Tea, bruised badly, ended up in a dark room with the only stranger who was once her enemy, Malik Ishtar. However, she could not recall any of her memories and instead got on good terms with him. What would happen when she discover the real truth, that thi


"W-where a-am I?" The girl groaned as she slowly forced her eyelid open. She stirred motionlessly, letting her eyes adjust to the inky darkness. After a momentary pause, she regained composure from her small reverie, and watched her surroundings, in stun.

The room was mostly engulfed in shadows, streaks of faint moonlight streamed into the room from the circular window on the left wall, granting the room a slight portion of life. Other than that, the room completely blacked out, cold and dull. The brunette fidgeted, trying diligently to shift her weight onto her thighs so she could sit up. However, she noted her sore joint and lack of energy that made the attempt impossible to prevail. She gave up after several try, and convinced herself to stay lying down.

Nevertheless, she was filled with apprehensive and her pale face showed. She was struck in this dark, foreign place, without a clue why she came to be in the first place. Her head felt heavy and especially painful when she tried to move it. When she jerked her head to her left, a bit too bluntly, the surge of pain the thumped in her brain was so severe, it sent sparks flashing in her eyes. She held still after that, frightened to wiggle a finger in fear the pain might return.

Very tactfully, she motioned her graze to slide onto her body. An involuntary gasp escaped her lips. Her knuckles looked ghostly white from her tight clench. Dried blood drew fine red lines around her wrist, which appeared to be mangled. There were blisters, bits and cuts visible on her arms, legs and feet. Her shirt was torn apart badly; the once bright orange shirt looked dirty and filthy. Her skirt that reached to the knee was ripped apart as well, with splits present at the edges. She was bare feet.

She nibbled her lips and tasted blood, hot and bitter. A grimace hung on her face and tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to fall. She swallowed hard and held back her tears. She was very scared; her mind was racing with panic. The torn cloth and bare foot suggested something so nasty she had squeeze her eyes to shut out the thoughts. How came to the room, entirely on her own, without any accompany, she was dumbstruck and had no clue. She composed herself and deliberately pushed herself to think. However, her memory failed her. She could not remember a single thing, only a muddle of fear crawling in her skins. The smell of burned metal clung in the air, which only added more dismay to the current situation.

She laid absently in the dark, trying to piece back details to refill her memories. Suddenly, there was a loud rap on the door on her right, followed by a click signaling the opening of the door. The brunette fixed her eyes intently at the door, pockets of sharp acuteness tugged in her sapphire orbs.

A slender, tall figure made its form known through the door. The rough body movement suggested it to be a male. He approached her, making a sweeping sound with his feet. She tried to nudge her body away when she inched closer. Through the dim light by the window, she witnessed his stern facial expression, cold and clipped. She tried to speak; only the lump in her throat allowed her a gulp instead.

He moved closer and bent perilously close to her. She began to fluster, fear was written all over her face. He smirked, sensing her silent discomfort, however he said nothing.

The brunette shot another try on interrogation and opened her mouth. Before any words made its voice, a finger tip brushed past her lips and pressed it firmly.

"Don't speak." He warned her.

She decided to argue but chose against it when she saw the change on his face. His lavender eyes melted to form the seemed less demanding. His Leasburg lip fell down and appeared more relax. The tip of his mouth curved up in a half-hearted smile.

He frowned when she saw the brunette's motive.

"Don't move. You are very weak, stay still." He instructed, his voice sounding very grim.

She did as she was told, approving the truth of his words.

He sniffed the air in disgust and walked to the window, pulling it open. Fresh, cold wind instinctively leapt in. He then pranced toward the door and turned the light on.

The girl quickly shades her hands over her eyes, shrouding herself from the piercing light. After a minute or two of adjusting to the light, she looked up to give the stranger a more calculated look.

He was dressed in a washed up light blue jeans that was torn apart at the knee, revealing cotton white materials. A tight black tank top wrapped his upper body parts, opening wide half way up his chest. He didn't look cold despite the contract of the temperature. A silver necklace hung around his neck, glistening under the light. He was fairly skinny, the biceps on his arms meant he trained himself well. He was tan colored, blond hair that fell to his neck and pointed in all directions. He didn't seem to be disturbed by the bangs that hovered over his forehead in frizzled manners. He had a quite handsome face. A haughty air outlined his form. He cocked an eyebrow at her intense graze on him and returned her favor by slipping a few glimpse on her.

She had brunette hair that was cut short to her neck level. She had smooth, creamy skins. Her eyes marked the most distinguished feature, cerulean blue that was drowned with emotions. It sat harmlessly on him like water under the moon. If she was to remove the scraps, and drained tears on her face, she was known to be quite pretty and cheerful at that too.

The guy miffed and beamed at her. She stared, bemused by his enthusiasm. Grinning yet again, he made his way to the desk top located beside her bed and grabbed the First Aid Kit. He came back, unzipping the bag. The girl sensed his precognition of doing her wounds and cringed.

He placed himself onto her bed and reached for her shoulder. She pulled away, but not quick enough as his finger tip caught it. He gave it a reassuring squeeze and then worked to pacify her by drawing circles on her back with his finger tip.

Her shoulder sagged, and she exhaled the air compressed in her chest. She felt less nervous.

He dropped the act after sometime and picked up a bandage from the bag. He glided closer to reaffirm his grasp on her. He slowly did her wrist, gingerly placing the white material onto her skin and finished it with a tight wrap. His fingers worked deftly around all her wounds in silence. The silence was almost tranquil; it sent shivers down her back.

Lastly, he cleaned up her face, brushing away the tears and blood with a wet towel. His eyes felt intimate on her face as it grew feverish. He stopped to look at her, his expression curt. She quickly shifted her graze else where as he continued doing her wounds with a funny look on his face.

The only two things he still left unattended were the area around her neck that stretched to her chest and areas on her upper thigh. She flushed a beet red when she saw his eyes fell tentatively on the parts.

He quickly looked away, mutely cursing himself.

"Well . . ." He began, and halted to choose his words.

The brunette knew what he was contemplating on and found the situation rather difficult as well. She felt bad he had to carry the burden on bandaging her yet felt puzzled why he had to do so.

"W-why . . ." She trailed off.

"Why am I here doing your wounds?"

"Yeah."

"You'll know later." He said promptly.

She nodded and thought she had to be satisfied with that answer.

"Well . . ." He started again, but looked rather furtive.

"A-are you g-going t-to?" She coughed the words out.

"You need to get into clean cloth." He pointed out sharply.

She didn't say anything.

He looked her over and signed. He trudged to the closet opposite her bed and handed her a blue jean and a black T-shirt.

"Get yourself in these." He ordered.

She veered at him with scorns in her eyes as if to say how?

"Can you try to move?"

She bit her lips as she tried to move. She managed a few inch but no more. Pains showed in the veins of her eyes. She twisted her face and looked pathetically helpless.

He heaved a louder sign.

"Well I'll help you." He tiptoed closer.

He extended his hands and snatched the edge of her shirt. His fingers lingering onto her skin as he tried to peal it off.

"NO!" She protested fiercely.

He stopped simultaneously as the words just left her mouth. He looked up and saw her pout and a look of strangled fear.

"You look scared."

She glared at him. "I'll stay in my cloth, I'll change when I can manage myself."

He shrugged. "Fine with me."

He opened his mouth to speak again when she cut him off deviously. "I'll do the rest of my wound when I get better."

"Alright."

They shifted awkwardly under the silence.

"Can I ask you something?" She was the first to break the silence.

"Shot."

"How did I get here?"

"I brought you here."

"I-I don't remember anything."

"I'll fill you in later."

She fought. "Why later?"

"'Cause you are not up to learning the truth right now." He stated soberly.

"I am."

"Don't argue with me."

His words fell like chunked ice and she was at a loss of words.

"Fine." She replied meekly. Patches of fury shown on her face.

"Trust me Tea, I will tell you when you are ready to know." His voice softened a bit.

"Fine."

He signed at her waspish face, refusing to give in.

"Alright then, I'll check on you tomorrow." He turned to leave.

"Wait."

"Yeah?"

"Can you please spare me the courtesy of telling me your name?" She wolfed down the words.

He gave a small chuckle. "Malik Ishtar is the name."

With that he turned off the light and left, leaving the girl all by herself in the dark.

Okay I'm done. Please REVIEWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!


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